What Was I Thinking?

Vegas is hot. I forgot that. Glad to be home. And why did I drive down on Thursday to turn around and come home on Saturday? Oh right, Brent is out of town for the next 2 weeks and this was pretty much the only time we'll see him. So I suppose the drive was worth it.

And I found out gas is at least 30 cents cheaper a gallon in Vegas. Figure that one out.

Mega Happy Fun Disc?

I'm listening to Lindsay's Mega Happy Fun Disc III because I am pretty bummed today. Many factors, including I miss my mom and everyone around me is pregnant and I'm sick of it. But that's not the point of this post. The point is, MHFD III is fairly depressing for something that's a Mega Happy Fun Disc. It includes:

Route 66 - Depeche Mode (How can you not be depressed listening to Depeche Mode?)
Touch Her Madly - The Doors
Don't Bring Me Down - ELO (Yes, there's a lot of classic rock on this disc, and classic rock is fairly depressing)
Hotel California - The Eagles
Part of Me, Part of You - Glenn Fry (Depressing for numerous reasons, not including my mom used to play this on the guitar because of her brother, my uncle, who drowned on a family river run 10 years ago)
Armageddon It - Def Leppard (Don't ask)
Dogs of Lust - The The
Holiday - The Other Ones (Pretty much the only peppy, mega happy song on this disc)
Smells Like Teen Spirit - Nirvana (Because Nirvana is known for its happy songs)
Shame About That - Sara Evans (Wondering why there's country on this disc? Me too.)
Pop Goes the World - Men Without Hats
Love to Hate You - Erasure (Full of sunshine and flowers)
Then What - Clay Walker (Still not sure why the country is there)
Pour Some Sugar on Me - Def Leppard
Afternoons and Coffeespoons - Crash Test Dummies (Because someday I'll wear pajamas in the day time)
God Shuffled His Feet - CTD (Yes, I may be the only person who actually bought the album)

This disc isn't Mega Happy at all! In fact, it's pretty much a turn out the lights and sulk disc. I hate to say it, but the 4th one isn't much better, other than the peppy Blink 182 version of Seasons in the Sun.

I'd better make a new disc. Or iTunes play list, except my iPod says Do not disconnect and last time I disconnected it without it's permission it retaliated by having no battery power when I needed it. So it's a CD for me, because I can't drive to Vegas in my current state of bummed. Hmm...I wonder if we have any G&R...because nothing cheers you up like Welcome to the Jungle.

Ah the DVR

Amazingly enough, it's time for the mid-season finale of Eureka. Personally, I'd be fine if we didn't keep watching Eureka, especially now that Stark is gone, but Brent enjoys it and it's one we can actually watch while H is up, unlike Burn Notice, which is way too violent. That's the reason there are 4 unwatched episodes on the DVR. And there are 5 episodes of Stargate Atlantis, and probably 2 Sarah Connor Chronicles. We actually didn't start watching those until summer, so we had a whole season to watch back to back. Which is one of the joys of DVR. You can save up shows, assuming no one tells you what's going on and spoils them for you, and then when there is a dearth of good programming on, you are set. So we'll probably save Sarah Connor for the summer of 2009, or at least December 2008 while we're waiting for 24 to come back.

Anyway, one of the things I really hate about Eureka, other than it is the most predictable show on television outside of the Doodlebops--Moe always pulls the cord and gets wet--is the blatant product placement. I get it--the ratings are bad, the only way to pay for the show is to turn it into a commercial for Degree Deodorant, but must we have whole episodes with lines like "We stay cool under pressure" "Stay cool under pressure" "When it's hot, wear our stupid deodorant" Okay, that last one I made up, but the point is the product placement is out of hand. I accept some of the responsibility--we skip most of the commercials now that we have the DVR, but we don't skip all of them. Like the Sonic commercials--those crack me up. "I'll be Pepperjack the pirate and you be Cheddar the Accountant." Or my favorite "I'm no good at ice cream math."

Coming Clean

After reading a fellow former classmates post about junior high full of things I had pretty much forgotten/blocked out, I started thinking about the past and things I had blocked out. Such as girls camp. Most of it I have repressed, but I do remember one night that Lisa, Karen and myself decided to stay up late playing Monopoly via flashlight. It was late, and Lisa was very tired. I will admit it--I cheated. Every time Lisa landed on St. Charles place, I charged her $22, even though she owned the property. I don't think I won--I'm pretty certain Karen did, but I've felt guilty about it all these years. Okay, actually, I haven't really felt that guilty at all. In fact, I think it's pretty funny. And I always check my properties when playing Monopoly, just in case someone is trying to pull the same stunt. Actually, we only play Christmasopoly once a year, because once you turn about 14 Monopoly just isn't that fun anymore.

Oh How I Hate You...

Oh Little Touch Leap Pad, how much I hate you. You are noisy, obnoxious, and always underfoot. Half your pieces are missing. The cartridge that matches the book or puzzle is never the one that is plugged in. Even though the ads show children happily playing alone with their Leap Pads, you insist on forcing an adult to supervise/touch all the spots instead of the 3-year-old.

And yet, I can't get rid of you, because every time I try some little girl fishes you out of the DI box. I didn't even buy you, you showed up in a batch of toys dropped off by my sister-in-law. It would appear the only way to get rid of you is to shove you off unto some unsuspecting fool. Who will it be?

Christmas is Coming...

I so need to find a better hiding place for Christmas gifts. My closet is getting crowded, and there is now no room left for my socks because my 3 sock bins are full of gifts! Perhaps it's time to invest in a colored plastic bin, and I could label is something like "old fish tank parts, not Christmas gifts" so that nobody would peek in it.

Seriously, from several years experience I have learned that I must keep all the gifts in one place, otherwise I will find some of them several months after Christmas. Or forget that I was buying gifts throughout the year, and realize that H got 7 wooden puzzle sets for Christmas. And wrapping as you go--not a good idea in our house, because then you forget what it was. That's how I ended up being surprised that someone had given us the original trilogy of Star Wars again--yes, it was me, I bought it, wrapped it, and promptly forgot about it. Now I have it twice, three times if you count the VHS version. At least they finally broke down and put the original versions out on DVD. Because you do not want to get me started on the new ending of Return of the Jedi. Why not just upload a virus to the mothership and have it done with? Original Ewok ending all the way. But that's a blog post of its own.

More Evidence...

If my daughter didn't look a lot like my husband, there would be an easy way to tell they're related. Waking either of them up in the morning is like poking a hibernating grizzly with a stick. Then there's conversations like this:

I pick H up from pre-school. We're driving down the road, when suddenly H says "It's too quiet."

"I can fix that," I say, and the car is soon filled with DaDa's Disneyland. "Is that better?"

"Yes," replies a happy little girl.

We have also had this conversation:

We're in the Durango, waiting for Daddy. I'm flipping through the iPod, picking out some tunes to listen to. I pick Head On from the Jesus and Mary Chain.

"Turn it louder Mommy." H says.

"Is this loud enough?"

"No, louder!" H exclaims.

Just like her Daddy.

Abandon All Hope...

I think that if you're a very bad person, when you die, it isn't St. Peter who greets you. No, standing at the gates of hell you'll be greeted by the Doodlebops, whose singing, dancing, and capering will slowly drive you mad.

An Apology To Caputo's

I feel bad about saying there is no good deli in Utah, because there is one good place. Tony Caputo's at 314 S 300 W in Salt Lake City does have excellent deli. In fact, that's one of the positive factors in going to a NUCCA chiropractor that is located in SLC--Caputo's is just a few blocks down the road. I was absolutely delighted when I realized the proximity of the two.

I apologize if I upset any of the great people at Caputo's, because I have eaten there often and I actually have a menu in my car so I can decide what I want ahead of time in case there's a line. Which there usually is, because everybody loves Caputo's.

The balsamic vinegar that they use is so tasty words fail me to describe it. If you like vinegar, you'll be pleased.

My favorite sandwich is the Caputo, which has: Prosciutto, mortadella, salami, provolone, lettuce, and tomatoes on a hard Italian roll covered with olive oil and balsamic vinegar. I have to say, I'm a sucker for salami. And pastrami. I love pastrami.

And I hope I didn't offend any Italians, because I love Italian food, and their cheeses--the true Italian cheeses, not the stupid rip-off American versions like shelf-stable Parmesan cheese--are among the best in the world.

So, Matt, I hope you accept my apology. And thank you for giving me the comeuppance I deserved. Because I did.

And if there is anyone out there reading this, seriously, stop in at Caputo's next time you're in SLC. You'll be glad you did. You can check out their delicious menu at www.caputosdeli.com.

24 Can't Be Delayed!

I realized a while ago that the reason I don't get a lot of things done is because 98% of my brain is thinking about when 24 is coming back and what will happen and will Jack Bauer have to cut off another head, and how I've gotten pretty desensitized to violence thanks to 24, and how sometimes we have 3 episodes waiting on the DVR because it's much too violent for H to watch now that she's understanding what's on the tv. If she can request specific episodes of Sesame Street, she is definitely too attentive to watch 24. And CSI. And the Sarah Connor Chronicles. And Lost. Possibly Stargate Atlantis. This could explain why we watch so many shows on the Disney Channel. Ah, Life with Derek, you crack me up with your Canadian pronunciation of words like Sorry. Sorey! Hee hee hee. And Phineas and Ferb--pure comic genius. Even H can quote that show. But I digress.

Anyway, whenever I see anything in the paper or TV Guide about possible delays on 24, I get a little upset. I'm still mad about the writer's strike delaying 24 for a whole year! A whole year! A whole year of me being able to barely function because my brain is thinking about 24 when I should be writing articles or driving H to preschool or planning vacations. I could be balancing the checkbook--okay, letting Quicken balance the checkbook, but instead I'm thinking about 24. Granted, there shouldn't be any delay just because filming is taking a hiatus so the writers can figure out how it ends. I thought part of the joy of 24 was when they started filming they weren't sure how it ends.

Stupid writers. First they wreck last years tv season, and now they're getting me worried about next season. If I don't see new episodes of 24 soon I'm going to lose all ability to function! For example, right now I really need to unpack from our short jaunt up to Park City, but here I am, thinking about 24. I also need to finish editing my article on this month's School Board meeting, and upload pictures from the retirement luau (complete with a roasted pig H thought was a dog) that I attended yesterday. But that would require more than the 2% of brain power available that's not taken up with thoughts of 24. Specifically, will they finally kill off Jack's daughter? Oh how I hate her. But listing the reasons could take a post of its own.

Stuff I Hate

I really hate the new Utah license plates. Especially the new ski plate. The font for Utah is terrible--I can't see it without cringing. The shade of red that is underneath it is awful--it's hardly a red, more of a red orange, and I think it offends the senses. And the new motto--Life Elevated? What happened to the classic Ski Utah plate with it's timeless motto The Greatest Snow on Earth? I don't even ski and I prefer that plate. So much so, that on my last two vehicles I have requested that plate over the Centennial Arch Plate. Plus the car is red, and the red on Ski matched the car. Maybe it's just me.

I hate microwave popcorn. It does not matter which brand, I hate them all equally. Except ACT II caramel popcorn, which you can't get at the Payson Wal-Mart so I have to pick it up in Vegas.

Playgrounds without swings. Playgrounds without baby swings. Playgrounds with one baby swing that is broken.

Hotels without Tivo. Okay, that's not true. I hate the fact that once you get used to being able to pause live television you can't go back to regular tv without a lot of moaning and groaning. Even from the 3-year old. Especially from the 3-year old. "Sweetie, the Marriott doesn't have Sesame Street available any time of the day like we do at home. It's like Grandpa's house."

Coleslaw. It's just nasty. Except the delicious sidedish at McDonald's Bistro Gourmet restaurants in Orlando, Florida.

The fact that there are no Bistro Gourmet restaurants anywhere near Utah--only in Orlando.

The nearest Popeye's is in Mesquite, Nevada.

You can't get good deli in Utah. You can barely get passable deli in Utah. One place that I'm aware of carries Boars Head meat. One place. And it's not Caputo's. That's good deli, but it's Italian deli so it doesn't count.

Shopping for shoes. Apparently no one who is a size 6 has a wide foot but me--or everyone does. Either way, I can never find shoes in the right size.

Basic Dish doesn't include G4.

The fact that gas costs at least 30 cents less in Colorado than it does in Utah.

The Blimpie on 1300 South in Salt Lake--they don't have the good Blimpie pickles. That's half the reason to go to Blimpie. The other half is the delicious spicy mustard and delicious oil and vinegar. Mmm...Blimpie.

There's no Blimpie in Utah County that I am aware of. All the Blimpies in Provo shut down. One is now a Carl's jr, one got knocked down, and one is a Papa Murphy's and the Enter and Exit signs are the old Blimpie signs and it makes me sad everytime I see it, which is basically everytime I am on University Ave.

Hmm...a large percentage of things I hate have to do with fast food. Strange. Maybe I eat at too many fast food restaurants. Add that to the list--fast food.

There Was A Time...

There was a time when my things stayed in great shape, and the printer stayed on. There was a time when you could walk through my house without tripping over blocks, tiaras, or dollies. There was even a time when you wouldn't find sippy cups full of mystery liquid in various places in the house. (I threw the scary one that had been in the garage for who knows long straight away.)

There was a time when if the Durango was driving weird we'd take it to a mechanic. Now, we check to see if H pushed the 4-wheel drive button when she was playing in the front seat, because most of the time that's the problem.

There was a time when I slept in on weekends, got enough sleep on weeknights, and had something that was known as disposable income. Now that income is spent on disposable diapers.

There was a time I could leave the See's Chocolates box in plain sight without it being compromised. Now it is in a secret hiding place known only to me.

Life with H is certainly interesting--there is never a dull moment.

There was a time where I would say "Don't eat that, it fell on the ground." Now I will say "It's only been on the ground for 10 seconds. You wanted that hot dog, you eat it." (Actual story from lunch today at Diamond Grill. Love that Malibu Chicken sandwich.)

There was a time when I may have been able to discuss politics and engage in lively banter with other people. Now I'm fully prepared to debate whether or not changing Bert & Ernie to claymation was a good idea. (I don't think it is.) And let's not even get into what is wrong with Handy Manny. (Why doesn't he run off with Kelly from the hardware store already, leaving the tools behind?)

There was a time when a night out meant a sit-down restaurant and perhaps a movie or mini-golf. A night out now is dinner at Taco Time and a trip to Wal-Mart.

As my mother would say, there is a time for everything. A time will come when I'm well-rested enough to pay enough attention to the world around me and know what is going on. I'll be able to converse intelligently about something other than the upcoming Fox tv schedule, or awesome cable shows like Burn Notice and Ninja Warrior. I might hit a time when I don't have the East and West Coast Disney Channel schedules memorized. I might forget that Sesame Street is on at 1:00--a feat considering we have a DVR and I don't pay too much attention to what is on when because I don't have to once the timer is set.

But until that time comes, I'm going to spend as much time with my little 3-year-old as I can. Even if it means getting up at 8:00am on vacation to take her finger painting at the Marriott Maze program. Which I did. And she loved it. And now I've got 4 beautiful works of art, one of which is going in her room, one on the fridge, and two are going to Grandma and Grandpa's houses for Christmas gifts.

As Billy Joel says, "This is the time to remember, 'cause it will not last forever."

Can You Stand the Excitement?

Last night was the monthly meeting of the Spanish Fork Planning Commission. I am so lucky I get to cover it for the Spanish Fork News. At least this month it didn't drag on and on and on--no, this month there was hardly anything on the agenda and I was only 2 minutes late and had missed to first couple of agenda items. But there was a good debate on whether or not to annex a property that is on Riverbottoms road into the city, so that will give me something to write about. I just have to find time. While H is at pre-school? After I pick H up from pre-school? During her nap--ah, that blessed time of 2 1/2 hours in the afternoon where she sleeps and then awakens refreshed and happy again? And when am I supposed to squeeze in loading the Durango with all the food and assorted items I have to take to Enrichment tonight? Which reminds me, I have to call everyone who signed up to bring food. I got the list at 5:15 last night. 15 minutes before I was leaving to take H to my dad's so I could go to Planning Commission. There was no time to call anyone.

And Friday morning is out--the article is due at 12:00 and I'm taking H on a playdate with a friend from high school--one of the few friends I've remained in touch with over the years. Plus, Friday I have to bake cookies shaped like onesies and bibs for my sister-in-laws baby shower that I'm hosting on Saturday, and go set up the yard for the shower. It had better be good weather, because I want to have one more event in my mother's rose garden before it gets too cold.

I do this to myself--it is my own fault I'm too busy. When will I learn to slow down? Probably when I'm dead.

(The picture is of H at my brother Mike's wedding July 5th. She was the cutest flower girl ever, and had so much fun skipping down the secret garden path, until she got bored and wandered off and we found her around the block in a neighbor's garage. But that's another story.)